“It’s Merry Christmas, Paki” – A Holiday Memory.

 
I wrote a similar entry on prosebox, so you don’t need to read both, if you are reading either.

This one is probably better… but neither is incredible. So, to each their own.

 
 
 
I should be writing a short paper, on the differences between my dominant culture, and the counter culture in which I grew up in. But something I saw on Social Media today hit a nerve.
 
If you are reading this, I assume you know me. My parents came here from India, in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s. I doubt they celebrated a single Christmas before they moved to Canada. I’d have to ask them, but even as I flip through their old photo albums, I can’t recall seeing a Christmas tree in any, before my brother and I made our appearances in the family.
 
 
It was a sweet gesture on their part, to craft a Christmas for us. Even though our Christmas was entirely made up of the commercial aspects. We are not Catholic, nor Christians, my parents are devout Hindus. Christmas in our home was celebrated entirely for my brother and I, so that we would not feel left out amongst our Peers. I have great memories of Christmas, and for that I am thankful my parents were open minded, and willing to participate in the cultural norms of their new country. They celebrated Christmas for us, with as much excitement as they celebrated Diwali for them.
 
As commercial as it was, it was the only way I have ever celebrated Christmas. Sam and I both have no beliefs in God, nor organized religion. Since we have been together, we have spent Christmas alone, away from our families.
 
All of that being said, as a child of immigrant parents, I have no issue with Christmas, or wishing someone a Merry Christmas. What irks me is the ignorance that fuels the "Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holidays" battle.
 
I have worked retail a number of times over the Christmas Holiday season. I have met all sorts of people, and I have definitely been verbally abused many times.
 
The holidays are a stressful time and I can understand that, I think we all can. In retail, one way I look at the job is that, shopping for women is often about the experience you craft for them. The difference between a good shopping trip and a bad shopping trip is the experience. I often liken the purchases made, to picking up souvenirs from the gift shop to remember a pleasant outing. It It is the same for the salesperson. The difference between a good shift and a bad shift is made up of our customer experiences that day. Just like one bad apple spoils the whole bunch, one mean customer can ruin your whole day, and break your spirit. One thing you get used to in Retail is taking verbal punches, especially when someone makes demands you can’t make good on. It takes a lot more patience and energy to handle a mean customer than it does the fun ones.
 
But this, was not one of those times. At least it wasn’t until I made the mistake of saying the wrong thing.
 
A couple of years ago, in Ottawa, I was working during a busy holiday rush. A woman came in, and I greeted her. From the get-go she was warm, and pleasant. She greeted me in return with a smile, and from that moment, we seemed to have connected in a way you seldom find in retail. She was looking for a new look for her office party, and as we picked out products, we laughed and made jokes, and she used the phrase "I trust you", repeatedly.
 
It was a rare time in Make-up where someone is almost completely effortless and easy to deal with. So what happened at the end of our interaction shocked me. 
 
I rang up her products, processed her payment, carefully placed her items into her shopping bag, and tossed in some samples we had behind the cash. I walked out from around the counter to hand her the bag, recounting how lovely it had been to meet her, and thanking her for such a great experience. She also thanked me for my help, said she would be back to see me in the New Year, and she would let me know how the products were working out for her.
 
Then I said two little words that enraged this woman. Enraged her enough to hurl a racial slur at me.
 
I said them, just as the bag was switching hands, from mine to hers. 
 
I said to her, "I hope you have a great time at your party, and Happy Holidays to you and your family!"
 
Did you catch it? 
 
Because I didn’t, at least not until it was done and I was left stunned. 
 
Any warmth, or kindness faded from her face, and any connection we had made was gone in a split second. That carefully crafted ‘experience’ I had worked hard to give her now meant nothing. 
 
Only four words came through her gritted teeth at me. She said simply, "It’s Merry Christmas,  Paki." 
 
With that, she snatched the bag and walked out shaking her head, in what I can only imagine was disgust at my holiday wishes.
 
She did not even give me enough time to apologize for offending her, which I had no intention of doing. 
 
I wished her Happy Holidays, with kindness and good intention, not to make a political point. I interchange between Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, because over the course of the season I will say them hundreds of times over. Until that moment, it had never been a problem. I had never been chastised in such a demeaning way for wishing a Happy Holiday to anyone in my life.
 
I am used to people pulling the race card and throwing it at me. It happened too much when I was growing up, and even continued into my mid twenties when I was working as a Bartender. It’s an easy card to play when people don’t get their way I guess. 
 
It hurts me to see Christmas propaganda with words such as "It’s Merry Christmas, not Happy Holidays, and if you don’t like it, go back to your own Country!" flash across my Facebook, or twitter and I have unfriended more than one person for this.
 
But, those words still make me cringe. 
"Go back to your own country." 
 
I was born in the same hospital as many of the people who said that to me growing up.
 
They are words that have stung me my entire life. As far back as I can remember people have been telling me those words. They remind of that little girl who had no idea where she belonged because, she wasn’t white enough to be Canadian, and she wasn’t Indian enough to be Indian… so where does she belong?
 
It’s not because I’m of East Indian descent that I don’t celebrate a traditional Christmas. It’s because I don’t believe in God, or religion and that is my right. But I have no issue with the words Merry Christmas, or Happy Holidays. 
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People have been saying Happy Holidays as far back as I can remember, so when did it become such a sore spot?
 
Growing up as a Hindu, even my closest friends did not say Happy Diwali to me. I didn’t assume they were ignorant, or uninterested in my culture. I most certainly did not berate them. I always understood that I was part of the minority. 
 
The truth of the matter is that, in a country as diverse as Canada, there are many people who don’t celebrate Christmas at all. Remember a little thing called Freedom of Religion? People are not expected to conform, but even if they don’t celebrate Christmas, it does not give any one license to shove their Christmas propaganda down anyone’s throat, or make assumptions.
 
Since when did wishing someone a Happy Holiday, in earnest and with nothing but good intention because such an awful thing to do? Since when is a small display of kindness from one human being to another so offensive? 
 
Anyways… she got one thing right. I’m East Indian, and I guess ‘Paki’ is the appropriate racial slur, if you’re into racial slurs. I am not so much a fan myself, but I have to give her props for using the right one. Why?
 
Well, very few people who don’t know me, seldom get the "What’s her ethnic background" question right the first time. Honestly, maybe I should offer them a prize if they do. 
 
Indian people in Ottawa hardly figured it out, and even when I told them my parents were East Indian, they were sure one of my parents was from somewhere else. They were convinced I was mixed, and seemed a little confused when I insisted that all of my family members are from India. 
 
"Really? Are you sure?"
 
Yes, I am 100% sure that both of my parents were born and raised in India.
What kind of question is that? Anyways, that’s a completely different ballgame.
 
 
Happy Holidays OD, glad to have you back.